This Stark's Mine
by sevEnteenGRaMmArlYMistakeS
Summary: Pepperony/Christmas one-shot, slightly funny (I hope). Rated M for extremely strong language, Tony Stark style. Implied Clintasha and Fury/Hill (What are they called!)


This Stark's Mine.

* * *

Strong language ahead. And no, I ain't shitting y'all, I mean really FUCKING strong language. (Don't kill me)

DISCLAIMER- If y'all really think a secondary school kid can create so many AWESOME movies and still have time for writing fanfiction, you have a really positive world-view. So yeah, we'll give you a cheer for that, but then we'll also boo you for judging a kid too highly. (cos I really ain't that capable) Oh and also, I didn't write the songs in this chapter, so I don't own them, all credits to their respective artists.

There was this scene in Iron Man 2, i think, where they're discussing their relationship and how it ain't gonna work? This is set after that. Also, Tony hates Christmas because his family has never celebrated Christmas before.

* * *

"This Christmas I've decided to put the Mistletoe in my back pocket, so all the people I don't like can kiss my ass."

-Staci Beth King

* * *

It was that time of year again. Christmas. That dreaded holiday where you shopped for Christmas presents and acted happy just because some belated saviour was born. What a lot of shit. However appearances had to be held up, so Tony was stuck throwing a Christmas party for all his friends. Damn you, Fury. We Avengers don't need any of your "team building" games. For the first time in forever, Tony cursed his wealth. Honestly, why was it that none of the Avengers had a home? Just because you were an Avenger didn't mean that you could skip out on buying a home and just freeload off S.H.I.E.L.D.! But the economic situation of his friends aside, the fact was still that he had a Christmas party that he had to throw. And Christmas was tomorrow. Wasn't he fucked?

An hour of pacing and crushed paper thrown into the bin later, Tony admitted defeat.

"JARVIS!" Oh yes. JARVIS was sure to know all the Christmas things that he didn't know.

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell me how to throw a Christmas Party."

"Do you not know?" If the A.I. could've sounded amused, it would have.

"JARVIS, just because I have never celebrated Christmas before doesn't mean that you can MAKE FUN OF ME!"

"Sir, you said that I could make fun of you anytime I want to." Damn the A.I. for being so intelligent. But again, I was the one who created it, so maybe...he should be cursing himself. Damn you, Stark! There we go.

"Just find answer the question, JARVIS."

"You'll need a Christmas tree, some decorations, preferably red, green, silver or gold-

"Wait there!" Tony scrabbled around for some paper and a pen and scribbled down all the A.I. had just said. "Right. Go on."

"You'll also need some Christmas music. Food-wise, some turkey and lots of Christmas pudding." Tony was already halfway across the room, hunting for his phone.

"Thanks, JARVIS," he says distractedly. He let out a triumphant shout when he found the device, hidden under a pile of spanners. How exactly it got there no one would ever know. Tony jabbed at the power button and the screen turned on...to show a blinking "low battery" sign. DAMN IT! What was he to do now? He stood there, racking his brain when he realised that he had another phone in his room. He skidded on a patch of oil and tore up the stairs, black footprints following him. His room was equally messy, just with clothes and personal items rather than mechanical stuff. He finally found the phone under the bed. The phone was already on and at a respectable percentage. Good. He tapped the phone app and was about to key in a number when he realised that he didn't know any supermarket contact numbers.

"JARVIS! Give me a supermarket delivery number!"

"What supermarket would you-"

"JUST BLOODY GIVE ME A NUMBER, JARVIS!" It seemed like Sir was in a bad mood today.

"+1 917-728-5700" Tony keyed the numbers in and waited.

"Hello, this is Whole Foods Supermarket, what can I do for-"

"I need a turkey and all your Christmas pudding, thank you very much. I'll pay on arrival, just drop it off at the Stark Residence, thanks." He hung up, picked up a pencil and crossed "Christmas food" on the list. There was still 5 items on the list and it was already two in the afternoon. Thank goodness the guest list was already sorted and they had all RSVP'd. Now, to find a Christmas tree.

Hours later, everything was sorted. There was a glittering Christmas tree, bedecked with glittery streamers in the corner of his living room. Stars hung from the ceiling and the windows were decorated with paper snowflakes. His designer table was covered with green and silver paper cups and the bar in the corner had every type of alcohol known to man. Just because it was Christmas didn't mean you couldn't get trashed. Everything looked perfect. Tony nodded once at the display, then went to his room to crash. That bottle of wine was calling him. He could describe Christmas in many different ways (mostly negative) but traumatic wasn't one of them. Now it was.

* * *

Tony was woken up the next day at elevenish by a particularly annoying bird that kept knocking against his window. He groaned and rolled over. Had it turned out differently, he would have been able to fall asleep again but he misjudged the distance and ended up in an undignified heap on the floor. What a way to start the day. Not to mention that at that very moment, a tone-deaf orchestra struck up the opening notes of silent night. Judging from the noise, they were right outside the Stark Residence. Tony winced and swore. Like a zombie, he rose from the floor and dragged his annoyed self to the bathroom.

After a long shower, Tony felt slightly better, but crappy mood still remained. And there was this pounding in his head just wouldn't go away. Bad move, Stark. Don't get trashed on Christmas Eve again. Maybe breakfast would help. Actually, brunch could be a more accurate title but he wasn't in the mood for being technical. So Tony headed down the stairs. His legs felt like lead and he had to force himself to take even a step. C'mon, Tony! Next step. That's right, bring your leg down. Man, if someone could read his mind right now. You can't give up now, Tony! Next step! And the next, and suddenly there was no step. He slipped and fell, knocking his head on the marble stair. Blinding pain filled his head.

"BLOODY FUCKING HELL!" He gingerly lifted his head and was rewarded with a fresh burst of pain.

"SHIT! JARVIS, What happened to my head?"

"You happen to have a cut to the back of your head, Sir. It isn't serious, so I'd recommend some antibacterial wash and a Band-Aid."

"Thanks, Jarvis." He winced and sat up, looking for the culprit of the crime. And he found it. Below his feet were two inky black footprints. Damn! He had forgotten to clean up the oil! He groaned again. Why was he so forgetful?

He cleaned up his wound (with many an expletive) and set JARVIS on cleaning up the oil. Then he made himself a sandwich and complained about the world because there was nothing else to do. And besides, it was fun to complain about the world. He was already saving the world; he could afford to do that. Sandwich finished, he walked over to the kitchen door and went down to the workshop. The Christmas party was at five, so he had at least four hours of blessed silence. Wasn't that lovely?

At four, Tony packed up the workshop and went to take another shower. He couldn't go to the Christmas Party all greasy, no way! Even if it was just a Christmas party. It was still a party. He was about to grab one of his suits when he realised that he didn't exactly know what one wore to a Christmas party. Having never celebrated Christmas before, Tony was clueless.

"JARVIS! What do I wear to this be damned Christmas party?" Wasn't that getting a little repetitive? He should stop soon, or he'd be shouting that in battle and the way he said it...just wasn't appealing when you were one of the Earth's "Mightiest" Heroes. Right. New task. Learn how to say "JARVIS!" without sounding like a confused child of six.

"Sir, your clothes are on the bed." Tony looked down...to see the most hideous get-up ever known to mankind. A fucking Christmas jumper. What the hell? Christmas was like a normal holiday that decided to get high on weed. He picked the offending material up gingerly, then promptly dropped it again when lights started flashing.

"OH GOD NO! WHY ARE THE PAPARAZZI IN HERE?!" Of course, once Tony realised that the lights were from the jumper, he sighed and thumped his head against his door. What fucking jumper did that? He picked it up again, hoping that it didn't light up again. But the universe seemed to be against him because the most horribly off-pitch rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer issued from the jumper. Tony was at his wit's end. He ran downstairs, grabbed his spanner and came back up again. He then proceeded to smash in the sound and light box.

"STOP," one hit.

"FUCKING," two hits.

"ANNOYING," three hits.

"ME!" Four hits.

Damn the fucking annoying jumper. With disdain, he picked up his jeans and his jumper and brought them both to the bathroom. The door slammed with an alarming crash.

"Why'd Sir destroy it?"

* * *

Tony looked one way, then the other. Nope, still looked bad. Damn, this jumper was ugly. If Tony couldn't pull it off, it was a wonder that the rest of the world could. But all for the sake of Christmas, right? He checked his watch. It was time.

He grabbed his phone and went down. It seemed like he was a little late because Steve, Banner and Rhodey were already outside. He invited them in and Rhodey went straight for the drinks. Damn, his friend was too much like him. It was unreal. He descended the stairs again and there, at the door, was the craziest sight he had ever seen. Clint and Natasha were holding hands and they were wearing fucking CHRISTMAS JUMPERS! And they were SMILING! Man, if even Natasha liked Christmas, then he was really a fucked up man, wasn't he? He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. This opportunity was too hard to pass up. They, too, were escorted to the upstairs living room. Next through the doors of his Malibu home were Fury and Hill. He frowned at Fury's snowman eye patch but said nothing. He didn't want to get into deep shit again with the director. Then came the God of Thunder and the God of Mischief. He was going to have to keep an eye on Loki at all time, which would definitely ruin the party, but it was a Christmas party, so it didn't matter that much. And what the Thor wanted, Thor got. Spoilt brat. Not like he wasn't, but...exaggeration was a mere technicality when it came to proving points. Nah, Stark, stop it. You can't be distracted on the job! Besides, what's that thing there? Tony squinted. It was a bike. Who's riding it? It's a boy...oh, it's Peter. Damn, was the boy really that poor? He needed to sort some sort of transportation system for him.

"Tony!"

"Peter, how you doing, mate?"

"Alright. Up the stairs, follow the noise, yeah?"

"Yes. Off you pop!"

"Merry Christmas, mate!" Aww. Tony hoped he never lost his British Accent. It was just so cute! He'd have to thank his guardian for bringing him over to England for a few years. Somehow.

He went to get a shot of Vodka before resuming his post at the door. He knew that there was someone else coming, but he couldn't place who. He knew the Twins weren't available, and Vision had gone off to the middle of nowhere (the Sahara Desert), so who was it? Tony frowned. Ah well. He'd just leave a sign and go and join the party.

"JARVIS! Get me a pen and a piece of paper!" A robot scuttled over to him, offering the materials. Weren't they just so cute? Tony scribbled the directions to the party and left the paper propped up against the door. Let's go PARTY!

The living room was a noisy place. You would have thought that grown men were above dancing and screaming along to Christmas songs but Tony's eyes showed otherwise. Was that...Fury, dancing too? Oh God, his EYES! Fury was twerking! He needed another drink. Where was the bar? Behind the dancing men. Great. He pushed past Steve and Banner, hoping to go unnoticed through the throng of people. But as life usually went for Stark, that was a tough thing to do. Past Clint, past Rhodey. Almost there! He could see glimpses of the bar. A few steps and he would be there. Four steps, three steps, two-

"Hey, Stark! Wanna dance?" DAMMIT! He turned to see Loki, looking innocent but with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No, thank you, I'll pass today." Thor came up beside Loki and frowned, having heard the tail end of the conversation.

"No, Man of Iron, go and dance with Loki. Lighten up!" The smirk that spread across Loki's face could have won an award for _"most evil smirk from an anti-villain."_ Long, but it worked. Tony sighed and swore some more. He walked over to Loki and offered his hand. Loki took it and changed the music to _"You're a Mean One, Mr Grinch."_ Didn't that just describe him? Mr Grinch. Loki twirled Tony and he cursed. What the hell? Ballroom dancing to this? Damn you, Loki. To Clint, the sight was too funny to be laughed at alone. He nudged Steve. Steve sniggered and caught the attention of Banner, who whispered something to Rhodey, who looked shocked, then screamed at the top of his voice, "Look at 'em two men out there!" Fury even stopped twerking. All eyes swivelled toward them and Tony flushed. Loki just kept his smirk on his face. Oh God, when would the song end? This was torture! Finally, but all too late in Tony's opinion, the song ended. He let go of Loki's hands like they were red-hot irons and dashed away to the bar. In the glass went all the liquor he could find. He did NOT want to remember what had just happened. No, thank you. He headed to a chair and sat. Loki had moved on to other victims, the current one being the Capsicle. They were doing the tango to _"All I Want for Christmas is You,"_ and Tony had to admit that it WAS incredibly funny. Then the door slammed open.

"Hello? I just followed the instructions on the paper. Am I at the right place?" The room went deathly silent. Even though Tony wasn't facing the door, he'd know that voice anywhere. His glass dropped and the alcohol spilt everywhere. He turned around.

"Pepper?"

"T-Tony? I thought you weren't coming!"

"Yeah, well, you've got Fury to blame for that."

"Alright. Hi?"

"Hello. Uhhhh...would you like a drink?"

"Yes please." Tony went over to the bar to fix a drink for Pepper. A Bloody Mary, actually, because that's what she always had. And what was she doing here? The night just got a lot worse. It's not every day you host a Christmas party and then the girl who dumped you for "life and death" reasons show up at it, is it? Drink finished, he passed the glass to her and sat down. She sat down beside him.

"You alright?" He asked.

"Fine."

"New man?" And damn, he sounded bitter when he said that.

"No." Thank goodness.

The next few minutes were sat in an awkward silence, while everybody else was partying and having fun.

"How's work going?"

"I completed a new Mark project yesterday."

"That's...good."

"You? What've you been doing?"

"Just admin for STARK industries."

More awkward silence. Then suddenly, Tony remembered their conversation on the roof-top, and there was as a question he just needed to ask.

"Pepper, why did you dump me?" She frowned.

"Because I didn't want to be heartbroken if you died."

"Clint's with Natasha. Fury's with Hill."

"I-"

"What was the real reason you broke up with me, Pepper?" He stared into her eyes, searching for an answer that had plagued his mind for ages.

"I-"

"Tell, me, Pepper."

"Why?"

"Just bloody tell me, Pepper!"

"FINE! I was getting too attached! I've read all the papers, I know that you have a reputation, and I didn't want to be tossed out like trash by the man I loved, Ok? Do you know how much that hurts, Tony?"

"I haven't had a one-night-stand since I started dating you."

This conversation was going too deep. But he did really miss her. He missed everything about her, and without her, life just wasn't as satisfying anymore.

"I know, but-"

"No "but's", Pepper." Should he go for it? Would he get rejected again? "Please, Pepper, give me another chance. "

"What are you saying?" Oh, Pepper knew full well what he was saying. He would give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Will you go out with my sorry arse again, Pepper Potts?" He could see the gears turning in her head, the scales balancing the two odds.

"Pepper?"

"Wait."

"We don't have all the time in the world."

"Alright, alright! I'll try." Fucking hell! She said yes! His eyes lit up with happiness and he hugged his girlfriend tightly. She hugged back, and it was the most euphoric feeling in the world. Maybe Christmas wasn't so bad after all.

"You're so calculative, Pepper."

"You're so annoying, Tony."

"Don't argue with a Stark."

"This Stark's mine. I can do whatever I like with him."

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 _Word count:2860_

Do review if you can, because I hate asking for reviews but feel rlly discouraged when I don't get the results I want.

AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!


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